


Monroe's shrink

by Liliacy



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Depression, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heavy Drinking, Romance, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-03-18 21:06:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3583965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liliacy/pseuds/Liliacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bass is spending his birthday alone; Neville's daughter comes to visit him. With Monroe on one of his moods, it is easy to get way more than she bargained for. . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Monroe's shrink

General Monroe sat behind his desk, a half empty bottle of whiskey before him. It was late and the lamps had started to burn out.

He could have gone to bed, but it was all the same to drink here in the office. The sleep wouldn't come, not till he passed out.

  
The door to his office opened with a silent creek, a small figure slipping in. Bass was already reaching for his gun, when he noted this person was a female.

It took a moment before he realized who she was, since he had never seen her dressed up like that, in a small skin tight dress and high heels.

Or perhaps it was the whiskey that blurred his sight, so he hadn't recognized her immediately. He couldn't tell for sure.

  
"Emily. . . Why are you here at this hour? Did Tom send you?"

  
The girl smiled, walking to him, the sound of her heels filling the room. "Father doesn't know I'm here. I think it's for the best" She added sitting at the corner of his desk, crossing her legs. The hem of her dress rose a bit, revealing more of her skin.

  
"You're up late, General. Trouble to sleep?" Emily then asked, blinking her dark lashes.

  
"That's none of your business"

  
The girl smiled a bit, understanding look on her face as she rose, walking behind his chair, starting to rub his shoulders. "You poor dear . . . poor General Sebastian Monroe . . . you are distressed and so very tensed. . . "

  
"What are you, a shrink?"

  
"Would you like me to be?" Emily answered, her voice soft and seductive as her breath brushed his ear.

  
Monroe scoffed, draining his glass. "It's not a synonym for . . . just forget it.”

  
Emily didn't know what a shrink was, she had been too young when the blackout came and obviously Neville hadn't seen it necessary to enlighten his daughter.

  
"But I have a present for you . . . something that will cheer up your day."

  
"I hope it´s another bottle of whiskey" Monroe said, starting to sink into his chair. Perhaps it was the alcohol; perhaps he had started to relax.

  
"You are upset. Talk, it will help" She whispered, her hands sneaking to his chest.

  
"Someone tried to kill me. . . It's my birthday and someone tried to shoot me. Will you now leave?" Monroe spat, pouring himself another drink.

He wasn't in the mood for company, didn´t need any. The company of the bottle would do just fine. . .

  
"But I am the present" The blonde purred, walking around of the chair, only to sit to his lap.

  
"So . . . you have come here in the middle of the night, to seduce me?" The General asked, his hands automatically landing on Emily's hips.

He studied her, with half closed eyes, hoping to find out if he had already passed out and was dreaming. It didn't matter, though, dream or not his body had already started react to her closeness, making him harden.

  
"Well, I have had a crush on the General since I was sixteen" Emily smiled, taking his face between her hands. They felt warm, calming even. How could he have said no to a present like this? Even though if Tom would ever find out, he would probably try to shoot him as well. . .

  
Monroe leaned it, pressing his lips against Emily's. She answered eagerly to the kiss, her hands finding their way up to his hair. She knew just what to do. Where to touch him, how to move her hips in a playful teasing manner that made his cock achingly hard. . .

  
Monroe sucked her lower lip, demanding access, which she gave willingly, her tongue meeting his. Her hands worked on the buttons of his shirt, slow but demanding. It made him to smirk into the kiss. At least his birthday seemed to be getting better. A willing girl like Emily was always a pleasure and the thought of fucking an officer's daughter in secret turned him on even more.

  
"Get on the sofa" He breathed out, more commanding than suggesting. The girl obeyed, backing away while he followed. He pushed her down, feeling her hand on his bare chest, travelling down to undo his belt.

  
"I am your present . . . you can do anything you like" Emily spoke, her hands exploring his body, slipping off his belt.

  
Bass crushed his lips against hers while his hands were feeling her breasts. They were soft and round and she wasn't wearing a bra under her tiny dress.

"Anything?" He then asked between the heated kisses.

  
"Anything. . ." She answered, unbuttoning his trousers, wrapping her fingers around of his length, making him to gasp silently.

  
Bass kissed down her neck, not keeping rush. He stopped to suck on her nipples through the fabric till they were hard and she moaned quietly out of joy. He slipped his hand between her legs, noticing Emily wasn't wearing panties either. It made him to chuckle against her neck.

  
"A clever girl. . ." He murmured nibbling her earlobe, slipping a finger to her sweet, tight wetness. Her back arched, pressing their bodies closer together. He wouldn't wait anymore; he had to have her now. Get inside of her, feel her around of him. . .

  
Monroe's breath was already ragged when he pulled down his trousers, watching how Emily hoisted her hem up to her waist. She parted her legs as an invitation, which he was more than pleased to answer.

  
Groaning he trusted into her, slipping a hand under her back. Her breast squeezed against his chest and Bass was able to feel her legs to wrap round of his waist, her heels digging to the back of his thighs. She wanted him just as badly as he wanted her, or even more.  
It all felt still like a dream. Her appearing to the office in the middle of the night, seducing him, offering herself up as a present . . . confessing her crush to him out of the blue. . .

  
Monroe started to move faster, feeling Emily's nails at his back digging to his skin, but not painfully. She wanted more and he was willing to give it to her. He bit her neck, sucking on her soft spot, getting more soft moans to leave from her lips. "Oh. . . General Monroe!"  
"Bass. . . I want you to call me Bass" He gasped out, sinking his fingers up to her soft golden hair.

  
Emily panted, closing her eyes as her climax was getting closer. "I-I want you to fuck me. . . fuck me hard!" She cried out, almost driving Bass over the edge. Excited by her words he realized what he already had wasn't enough. He bit her lip, hearing a quiet whimper while he ripped the top of her dress, running his fingers over her flesh, squeezing her nipples.

  
Emily was panting heavily now, she was close and so was he. Bass grabbed her chin, slowing down for a moment. "I. . . I want you to. . . look at me". She did, her brown eyes foggy from the ecstasy. It took only two more trust to make her come and a couple more before he was finished.

  
They lied still for a moment, before he moved away, buttoning his pants before falling back to the sofa. Emily had pulled her hem back down, but looked still a bit distant, before noticing her ripped dress.

  
"What did you do?!" She asked, a hint to fear and anger in her voice.

  
Monroe was surprised, even thought the whiskey blur that was still swimming in his head. "What do you mean?"

  
"H-how am I going to get back home like this? I can't even get past the guards. . ."

  
"You mean. . . you weren't going to stay? Not to spend the night?" Monroe asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

  
"No. This was a present. A one night thing. . . please give me a coat or something so I can go home" she pleaded, trying to pull the ripped dress to cover up her breasts. Her face was still flushed and she breathed quite fast.

The living light made her eyes to glint beautifully. Her dark brows arched revealing her distress, making her expression somehow melancholic.

  
"No."

  
"No?" Emily asked, disbelief shining through her voice.

  
". . . You're not leaving. I won't let you. . ."

 


	2. Monroe's shrink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a small persuasion Emily decides to spend the night. Bass is more than pleased.

“What do you mean I can’t go?” The girl asked, now looking confused, fearful even. She pulled her dress again, but noticed it pointless and crossed her arms to cover up her exposed chest. 

Monroe walked to his desk, pouring two drinks, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. Emily had tasted just like strawberry ice-cream and before this night he had almost managed to forget what it tasted like. He liked it, more than he remembered. . . 

“I don’t want you to . . . my birthday is far from over and I rather enjoy celebrating it with you. What follows now, is that we have a drink and rest for a moment,” He said matter-of-factly, offering Emily a glass, which she refused. 

“You flatter me, General, but what am I supposed to say to my parents? My absence will bring up questions. . .” she spoke softly, placing her hand to his knee, making him to wonder if she had planned to leave after all. Emily could have been one of those young women who hungered for excitement, which sleeping with an officer would bring. Only she had done one better than an officer, which Bass didn’t mind at all. She had been rather entertaining. 

Monroe placed the glasses to the table and moved to sit closer, cupping her cheeks. A serious look on his face, when he leaned closer, till their foreheads almost touched each other. Emily didn’t make a move to shift, but didn’t drop her guard either. It seemed like she was the tensed one now. . . 

“And going out in the middle of the night dressed up like that didn’t bring up any questions?” He murmured, caressing her face. Emily didn’t answer, but her eyes were burning dark with want and something Bass couldn’t quite identify after that amount of whiskey, though his head had started to clear up a bit.  
“Spent the night, that’s all I ask” He then whispered, leaning to taste her lips, pulling her closer to make the kiss deeper. 

This time Bass would take his sweet time with her, enjoy every inch of her body as long as he pleased, making Emily to like it as well so she would come back for him. Her hand was moving from his knee to his thigh, caressing him through the fabric. He felt Emily to smile into the kiss. Maybe the girl thought she had some kind of power over him, juts because she managed to make him hard. Maybe she enjoyed the thought, played with it in her pretty little head, imagining she was the one having control over The General of the Monroe Republic, even for a moment. . . 

Emily had moved to caress his still growing erection through the fabric of his trousers, forcing out a grunt that made The General wonder if he liked this after all. She was leaving him vulnerable, distracting him to give all his attention to how good she made him feel. She had gotten past the guards . . . thought the dress didn’t have enough fabric to hide any weapons . . . but then again Emily had said she was about to leave, but here she was, a hand working on his cock, rubbing up and down in a steady, pleasurable rhythm. 

The girl seemed to find her way in his trousers even faster than he got down a glass of liquor, which was reasonably fast. She had stopped her teasing now and was working on his buttons once again. It was doubtful Emily had any hidden motives, she was Tom’s kid for God’s sake and Bass realized he didn’t care any longer, as he leaned his head back, closing his eyes. 

“You stay till the morning, that’s an order” He breathed out grabbing her wrist, before attacking her mouth with his own. With this time also, Emily answered eagerly to his kiss as rough and hungry it might have been. He might have even hurt her a bit, but didn’t care. He wanted feel her squeeze around of his length again, hear how she whined quietly in ecstasy while he fucked her. . .

“Then you don’t leave me much of a choice, but to obey, General” Emily gasped out, her bare chest moving up and down as she tried to catch breath. Bass watched her, admiring her figure for a moment, before roughly pulling her up, his hands squeezing her ass while her legs wrapped around of his waist.  
“I told you Bass will do just fine” he spoke, stumbling towards the bedroom door. 

“As the General wishes” Emily answered, pressing her lips against his. Monroe was irritated, even though it was only about the use of his name. Yet, the way Emily disobeyed him, rebelled against his wishes, excited him even more. 

Monroe would have cursed while working with the door knob, unless Emily would have muffled it down with a kiss, running her tongue over his bottom lip. The girl was trying his patience and if the door wouldn’t have opened, he would have fucked her against the office wall. 

Bass closed the door with his boot, panting heavily when laying the girl down on the bed, instantly moving over her, his hands and mouth roaming over her body. Her sighs were almost enough to drive him over the edge, so he decided slow down a bit and enjoy what he had. 

“Take off my boots” He ordered, rolling the girl over, watching how she flipped her hair back. She sat on top his hips for a moment, running a hand down his chest and tight abs, stopping right to his waistband. “Boots, I said” Monroe stated, seeing a flash of a smirk on Emily’s face, before she slipped to the floor, starting to undo his shoelaces. 

It didn’t take long before she crawled back on top of him, waiting silently for his next request. It pleased Bass. The girl was obedient, just when she needed to be. It made Bass to remember when was the last time he had enjoyed a woman this much, if he ever had. . . 

“Does the General want to see me? Will I take off my dress?” she purred, the tone of her voice driving Monroe crazy with want. “Yes,” he answered, his voice low and hoarse as he watched her to step off from the bed, starting to slide off her tiny, ripped dress. Her movements were slow and playful, just as he liked.  
Monroe pulled the already opened shirt off his back; his eyes travelling down Emily’s body from her face to neatly trimmed dark curs between her legs.  
She allowed him to look, not showing any shame or attempts to cover herself up, looking boldly at the bulge at his front. 

“I am wet for you General, what are you going to do next?” 

Monroe undid the rest of his buttons, kicking his pants off. “Get over here. I want you to be on top” he added, watching how the girl stepped from her heels, kissing her way up to his body till she reached his mouth. The trail of her mouth felt still damp on his body when she sat on him, taking him in to her sweet, tight wetness. 

Emily took support from his sides, her palms pressing against the tensed muscles of his body. “Slowly,” Monroe ordered his fingers digging to her hips as she started to move. Up and down, up and down, her breast bouncing slightly. He grabbed one, squeezing it, before starting to circle her nipple with his thumb. It was soft as satin under his touch and when he found a right spot, Emily gasped out of pleasure, staring to move a bit faster. 

Bass gritted his teeth, grabbing her hips firmly to slow her back down. “Do. Not. Test me,” he warned, soon slipping back into euphoria, forgetting for a moment who he was and that he should have been cautious at all times. The whiskey must have gotten to his system good; otherwise he wouldn’t be this calm, not even when he banged some woman. . .

Monroe watched Emily with half closed lids, feeling her hands run over his tightened stomach. She looked down at him with darkened eyes, sweat damping her touch. She started to move faster again and Bass knew it wouldn’t take long for her to finish him. He slipped a hand between her legs, fondling her through the moist curls, till he found her knob, starting to rub it with his thumb, adding a bit more pressure every time she moved. 

Emily came soon, biting her finger to muffle down the scream that tried to escape from the throat. She squeezed around of him ever so sweetly, but Bass wasn’t finished yet and used the situation to roll her under him. “I told you to slow down,” he grunted between the ragged breaths, pinning her hands above her head. 

Emily squirmed under him as he moved back in, not seeing reason to be gentle. The look in her eyes told she wanted it rough. She wanted him deep between her legs, their sweaty hips smashing together in the manner that made her to moan. It took only a few more thrust before Bass was finished, panting heavily as he came. He kissed her, almost thanking her, but the words were gotten stuck to his throat. 

He rolled over, wiping sweat away from his brow, his breathing still fast and ragged. Emily moved next to, starting to rise. Bass grabbed her hand, stopping her, his eyes wide in the dark. The lamps had burned out in the office and no light got in under the door. 

“Stay. I want you to stay” 

“Who said I was going to leave? You ordered me to stay here till the morning” Emily whispered moving closer to him in the bed, the warmth of her body pressing against his. Her hand rested pleasurably on his stomach, giving him a comfort of sorts, that made him to fall fast asleep.


	3. Monroe's shrink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bass suffers from a mild hangover- Emily if forced to visit him- things are said; and revealed. . .

Bass moved in his bed, groaning heavily. The morning had come too soon, for him at least. He didn’t have a hangover, not really but his head felt light and it tasted like something had just died in his mouth. He had grown quite a tolerance past years, learning how to handle his liquor, but the memories of last night were still blurry in his aching mind. The empty spot beside him didn’t actually cheering him up either.

The girl had left early, if she even had been there at all. The sheets were cold beside him, but there was a used condom lying on the floor. It confirmed it true: the girl had been there and they had fucked, at least twice. He remembered it now. He remembered how she had walked into his office, her hips swaggering softly. He remembered her touch, her lips against his, eager and playful. . . She had rubbed his shoulders; taken a seat on his lap . . . even the thought was enough to make him aroused. It was foolish to doubt if she had been there. . .

Monroe stretched, rubbing his face. It had been a while when he had slept a full night, without waking up to a slightest of noises. It wasn’t good: the girl had left him very vulnerable by tiring him out like that, but waking up relaxed and well rested was quite nice, he had to admit that. 

He lay still for a while, letting his eyes to adjust to the light before getting up. The pointers of the old longcase-clock showed a bit over nine when he finally got out of the bed, starting to get dressed. Another condom was hanging at the side of a trash can in the office, as a reminder of the unexpected. Bass looked it, not being able to escape the thought that something about sleeping with Emily had been wrong, vile even. He sipped whiskey from the glass she had refused. It made him to feel slightly better. 

The girl had taken his coat, it seemed. Miles would have laughed, told that he had scored with this one and that he was lucky the get rid of her as painless as this, but his opinions didn’t matter. Bass wanted to have his coat back and the girl as well. . . 

\--

The streets of Philadelphia were supposed to be safe, for an officer’s daughter at least. Emily had found it otherwise, when two militia uniform wearing men grabbed her in bright daylight, even if she had done absolutely nothing wrong. She probably should have known this would happen; only she hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. . . 

Monroe’s office looked different in daylight, larger and lighter, as one could have imagined. It reflected his power well. Emily could have said it reflected his personality too, only she didn’t know him that well to say if it was true. 

“Why does Monroe want to see you personally?”

“I have already told you; I don’t know,” Emily lied, wondering if it truly had been a lie after all. Honestly, she couldn’t know for sure why Monroe wanted to see her. He might want his coat back or talk about what had happened . . . hell he could even want her to join the militia. There could have been several reasons for his attention and according to Jason, they weren’t always pleasant. Emily shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, trying to choose if she should believe her brother or not. The curious officer wasn’t an actual nerve calmer either . . . though she should probably have been thankful Monroe had chosen Baker to keep her company, instead of someone else, like Strausser.

“Maybe he wants to ask questions about my father or brother?” Emily then suggested, before Baker started to make a list of his own about every possible reasons why Monroe wanted her in his office. 

“He could have commanded anyone to do that. You must have done something to catch such interest,” Baker said, taking a seat on the armrest, his eyes scanning her body. Emily frowned, pulling the blue cardigan tighter over her, crossing her legs. Baker chuckled to her reaction. 

“Or perhaps you have done something you shouldn’t have, messed with wrong people. . . Have you been bad, Emily?” the commanding officer asked, a slight hint of a flirt in his voice. 

Emily would have liked to answer him with a cliché that she was about to, but luckily the sound of opening door made Baker to drop the subject rather quickly. He rose from his seat and so did Emily. 

General Monroe shot a look of pure ice to his officer and Emily could have sworn she saw Baker to tense up a little. It probably wasn’t nothing compared to her, though. She was so nervous she barely heard the General to thank Baker and tell him to leave. Emily watched him to go, feeling chills run up her spine when the door finally closed.

Monroe walked to her slowly, his boots meeting the floor with muffled sound. Emily would have lied if she had said she wasn’t nervous. Her hands had started to sweat and it was an achievement to prevent them from shaking. Monroe stopped right in front of her, his face close to hers. He looked down at her with a blank expression, which didn’t give away anything of his mood and Emily could have sworn he looked so much taller in day light than he had looked at the night before.

“General Monroe, I. . .” 

He grabbed her, muffling down her sentence with a kiss that was so libidinous and hungry her knees almost gave in under her weight. Monroe noticed that, pulling her roughly closer, making the kiss go deeper. 

Emily felt his hand tangled in her hair, while the other had moved down at the small of her back, bringing her even closer to his body, till she could have felt his heartbeat as her own. 

\--

Monroe smirked into the kiss, enjoying every passing moment while the burn in his loin had started to turn into a sweet painful aching. He wanted her, he wanted her so badly it hurt, making the kiss more demanding and impatient. The girl pressed her hand to his chest, squirming against his body, fighting to get off. Bass broke the kiss unwillingly, panting heavily, surprise reflecting from his blue eyes. He allowed the girl distance, but didn’t remove his hands, that were firmly resting over her shoulders. 

She looked at her with angry brown eyes, trying to steady her breath. Her cheeks were flushed, probably with excitement or anger and her golden locks had gotten messed up within the heat of the moment. She looked stunning and Monroe couldn’t ignore the feeling of his cock pressing tightly against his trousers. He fondled her arm with his thumb, getting response he hadn’t prepared for.

“Please, don’t. . . It was a onetime thing, nothing more.”

Monroe looked at her with half closed lids, swallowing. “I want you Emily,” he managed to whisper, his voice low and hoarse from the desire that was steadily building up inside of him.

She glared at him. “Is this why I was dragged in here? So you could fuck me whenever you want?” 

“It’s not that simple. . .” 

“I won’t become one of your girls, General” she hissed, trying to shake his hand away only to have Bass tighten his grip. 

“I would give up on the others. . .”

She attempted a slap. Bass caught her wrist, spinning her so; her back was firmly against his chest. His other hand was on her throat, but not hurting her. It rested there, almost fondling the tender skin of her neck, giving her just enough space to breathe freely. His erection pressed against the curve of her ass, giving him a small taste of pleasure. 

“Do. Not. Ever, try to hit me again” he whispered, his cheek against her soft hair. Emily trembled in his grip, but didn’t cry. She had gotten scared, but didn’t fear him. Somehow it fascinated him. Emily was angry, not because she would have hated him, not because he had mistreated her, but because she was proud.

Monroe grinned against her hair, feeling how she finally relaxed in his arms, not making an attempt to fight free. He nibbled at her earlobe, hearing a poorly muffled inhale, caused by the feelings he was giving her. Pleased by this he planted a soft kiss to her neck, his stubble scratching her skin. 

“I know your bride has taken a hit and you’re angry, but couldn’t we be friends?” he asked, making sure his voice was as soft and gentle as possible. The girl was fragile as a flower and should be treated more gently from now on. Slowly he turned her around, his hand still resting at the back of her neck. 

“I-I can’t. I have a boyfriend; he volunteered to go to Georgia . . . last night was . . . a revenge of sorts.” 

Monroe looked at her, his eyes narrowing into two blue stripes. He wanted to wring her neck.


	4. Monroe's shrink

“You have a boyfriend?” Bass asked, his grip tightening from Emily’s shoulder. Her brown eyes were looking somewhere at the floor past him, fixing somewhere near his mouth from time to time. She was nervous. Perhaps she should be, Bass hadn’t decided yet.

Emily licked her dry lips, managing to make gesture look somewhat erotic. There was nothing left of the person she had been last night . . . no seducing eyes or tiny dresses . . . she looked so much younger now, in her blue cardigan and jeans. She was nothing but a scared little girl. 

She nodded, finally managing to lift her gaze up to him. There was hurt in her eyes, shame perhaps. They must have been quite a contrast to his blue ones, which were flaming with anger. 

“Are you planning to get rid of him?” he asked, just now noticing how eagerly he waited for her answer.   
It might have been pitiful, that he hoped her to say yes, but he hadn’t ever been a sharing type. Miles would have made a joke about the whole situation, that didn’t even make any sense. The girl had come to his office, seduced him, confessed her crush, crawled to his bed and left and now she was telling she had a boyfriend. And it all had been just about revenge? 

“No- No,” she said clearing her throat, lowering her gaze. “He volunteered, I was pissed at him and my friend suggested I should . . . make it even somehow,” she finished, making Monroe to wonder if the word sorry, had gotten stuck somewhere at her throat.   
He wanted to hurt her, smack her across that pretty face and watch how her cheek would slowly redden. She probably wouldn’t have cried. He could see her, holding her cheek, glaring at him her brown eyes shooting sparks at him, while her lip bled slightly. 

\--

Emily looked at Monroe, trying to focus on breathing calmly. It was more difficult than she had expected. There was a certain look in icy blue eyes, which couldn’t promise anything good. She half expected he would start beating her up, but he didn’t. Instead he looked at her, studying her features for a very long time, before stepping away. 

“I see,” he spoke, and Emily felt his hand to leave her shoulder. She shifted uncomfortably. 

“Was that is?” she asked when ever to believe it or not, watching how Monroe walked to his desk, getting himself a drink. 

“That was it,” he said, sipping from his glass, pointing at the door. 

Later that night Emily got a note, which was addressed directly to her. She didn’t recognize the handwriting, but after reading the note, it wasn’t hard to guess who it was from:  
We are sorry to announce you that Nick Weller has passed away. He severed his country with dignity and died as a brave soldier of the Militia. 

\--

Monroe leaned back in his chair, resting his feet on the desk. The clock showed almost eleven. Its pointers moved slowly, filing the room with silent ticking. Listening to it was quite calming, at least it was tonight. He remembered the days when that very same noise had been enough to drive him mad. The empty house, with his family gone. . . 

The knock at his door brought him back and by its sharpness it wasn’t hard to guess who it was, beside he didn’t have time for guesses, when the girl already walked in, holding her head high. Monroe had hoped she would have arrived wearing a similar dress than she had worn at their special night together, but his wishes rarely seemed to come true. And it didn’t matter really, the girl looked rather nice in jeans as well and more importantly, she was there. 

“Emily, what a pleasant surprise. . . “

She looked at him with cold eyes, pushing her golden hair back. It was slightly curled from the ends and Bass couldn’t be thinking about how soft it had felt in his fingers. His eyes travelled from Emily’s face to her bosom, which was rising fast while she breathed. She was angry, almost exhausted and from Monroe’s opinion it wasn’t that cold in the room. It would have made him to smirk, if he hadn’t still been so angry.

“Is it?” she asked, a sharp edge in her voice. 

“I haven’t decided yet. What bought you here at this hour?” Bass asked, emptying yet another glass of liquor. 

“I’m here to return your coat,” Emily said, stepping closer, dropping the piece of clothing in front of him.

“Liar,” Monroe stated lowering his feet from the desk, seeing how Emily’s cheeks got redder by a shade.

“What do you mean, by liar?” the girl asked, crossing her arms, perhaps to make an attempt to get more distance between them.

“You’re not here for the coat. You could have sent someone to bring it to me,” Monroe said, rising from his seat. 

“Alright then. . . I also want you to know, that your note was cruel, impropriate and unnecessary and proves you’re a psychopath,” the girl said, rising her chin.   
Monroe smiled, running his fingers through her hair. 

“You’re right; it’s just terrible to see how you’ve cried your eyes out. . .” he said, voice thick with sarcasm. The girl hadn’t cried much, if she had cried at all. 

“I think you’re here to look some more fun,” Monroe said, looking amused, breathing in her sweet scent. She smelled like she had used perfume. 

“You’re incredibly sexy when you’re mad,” he added, his hands finding their way down to her hips, resting there while he looked down at her, feeling how he had started to stiffen up. 

“You’re drunk!”Emily snarled, her tone slightly disapproving.

“No more than I was when you walked in here, wearing a slutty dress, so you could have your little revenge.”

“Don’t. . . “ 

Bass silenced her, his lips meeting hers with a hungry, longing kiss, which he hoped to express just how much he wanted her. He tasted her mouth, savoring the taste of her lips, hoping Emily would answer the kiss. She didn’t. 

Monroe didn’t pull away. He wasn’t ready to give up, not yet, if he would give up at all. He wasn’t done with her yet, not after all she had done. He crushed his lips against hers with force, lifting her up to the desk. Finally, Emily gave into the kiss, but only for a moment, before she bit him. Monroe shoved her away panting heavily, meeting her angry gaze with his own. 

Emily’s breathing was ragged when she spoke, her eyes narrowing as two glittering stripes in her head. 

“I don’t want you,” she hissed her voice low and stern. 

At this point, Bass didn’t give a shit. He grabbed her hair, kissing her again, hearing a protesting whimper leave her lips. He had already pulled down her jeans, when a wide smirk spread across his face as his hand had found its way between her legs. 

“Liar,” he murmured, nuzzling to her neck, nibbling the tender skin gently, while he looked for a condom from his chest pocket.

Emily didn’t answer, but Bass felt her hand working on his buttons. He pushed her to lie down, slipping the condom on before leaning over her. She wrapped her arms around of his neck, looking deep in his eyes, with a hint of a smile on her pink lips. “You’re a monster,” she whispered, pressing her sex against the tip of his erection. 

Bass grunted, pulling her at the edge of the table, thrusting in. He didn’t bother to be gentle, not when the girl was obviously provoking him to be rough with her. He enjoyed her, got more turned on by her reaction. The way she moaned, leaning her head back, her hands grabbing support from his shoulders. 

He moved faster and harder, his thrusts deep and fitful. The girl gasped, taking his face between her hands, greeting his lips with a kiss.   
“Did your boyfriend ever fuck you like this?” Monroe asked breaking the kiss, his fingers dinging into the girl’s back. 

“No,” she answered, giving him thrill of pleasure which was just enough to drive him on. 

“How does it feel like, to be fucked by a real man, instead of that little boy?” Her reaction told enough: the way her back arched in his hands, the way she cried out silently, was just the answer he had wanted to get. 

Fifteen minutes later they both were in bed, resting, looking at each other in the dark. Monroe had finished soon after Emily and asked her to spend the night. She had agreed, now when they both had calmed down. 

“At that night, did you use my birthday to ease your conscience?” Bass asked suddenly, fondling her cheekbone with his thumb. 

“I didn’t know it was your birthday, I just got lucky and decided to use it as excuse,” she answered, with apologetic tone. 

“So everything you said was a lie. . .” 

“I never lied about the crush,” the girl answered.


	5. Monroe's shrink

Bass turned restlessly in his sleep, whining quietly every now and then. His sand colored hair had gotten messed up during night and his bare chest was moving rabidly up and down with the rhythm of his breathing. Emily watched him, getting more distressed with every passing moment, wondering if she dared to wake him up or not. It was never wise to wake up a sleeping soldier, especially not by shaking, but perhaps she should take a risk. . . 

Gently she placed her hand to his chest, calling him by his name. The name he had wanted her to use. The General woke up flinching, his wide sleep fuzzed gaze quickly fixing to her. “Hush, it’s alright, it’s alright . . . you were dreaming,” she spoke hastily, but with hushed tone, nursing The General’s hair till she was certain he was fully awake. 

“I-I was just surprised you were still here,” he breathed out, falling back to the pillows, closing his eyes. Emily took advance of the situation and dared to move closer. His heart was beating fast, just like he had come from a long run, but his body felt pleasantly warm under the covers. 

“I thought you wanted me to stay,” the blonde answered, not a hint of hurt in her voice. She wasn’t hurt; she had no reason to be. She understood, at some level what The General, the leader, the broken man beside her had gone through, what he still was going through. . .

The man smiled, slipping an arm under her, to bring her closer. Emily didn’t mind. She enjoyed him, wanted him, all of him. Perhaps it was because he, Monroe . . . had something to give to her. Being with him, gave comfort.

He nuzzled to her neck, smiling, his stubble tickling her skin. “I did, I still do,” he murmured, his hand sliding down at the curve of her hip. His touch burned her, sending pleasurable waves of heat between her parted legs. Monroe didn’t let her wait long, before slipping his long fingers to her moist dark curls, while the other reached for the drawer. 

Emily knew what he was looking for, even though his touch was making her head light and a soft whimper left her parted lips. Bass smirked, leaning into a kiss and Emily felt his hand leave her heated centre, but just for a moment. 

He moved over her, pressing his tip against her entrance, his blue eyes glinting impishly. Emily knew what he wanted and agreed to it, this time. “Please. . . I want you there, I want you in me,” she whispered, her hands reaching for his shoulders. 

Bass lowered his weight over her, sliding slowly in, his ass tightening as he finished the thrust. “Don’t close your eyes, look at me . . . look at me,” he spoke, his hands cupping her cheeks as his fingertips sank into her hair.

Emily obeyed, meeting The General’s blue gaze with her brown one. He started to move again, slowly, steadily, stopping every time she made an attempt to close her eyes. He kissed her, his hand running over her breasts, cupping one into a gentle demanding fondle while his pulsing length slid in her once more. His hand slipped under her ass, squeezing her, lifting her hips up. 

Emily felt the tension building up in her body, getting ready for release. Bass had noticed this too, providing her an orgasm with a single deep thrust. Emily gasped out, her back arching against the mattress. Bass wasn’t finished yet and didn’t give her much time to recover, till he pressed her hips back down, a pleased expression flashing in his eyes. 

He kept going, with slow deep thrust that felt almost like he was reaching for something deep inside her of, that only he knew was there. He was panting slightly already, with his lips parted and eyes half closed. He was getting closer, obviously fighting with himself to keep it slow. Emily tested him, rocking her hips softly against his, breaking the rhythm. The General hissed, pinning her hands at the level of her shoulders, jerking his hips against hers a bit harder this time.   
Emily smiled to this, wrapping her legs around of his waist, forcing him deeper. Bass grunted silently and Emily could have sworn he had just cursed under his breath. He stopped for a moment, holding still, before continuing. He pulled her down the bed till he was on his knees, hands supporting under her ass. His next thrust was faster, forceful even and just enough to send her over the edge again. It took only two more thrust for Bass to finish, before he collapsed next to her, a pleased grin on his face. 

“You just couldn’t give up, could you?” Emily asked, amusement shining through her voice. 

Bass smirked, wrapping an arm around of her waist. “Twice on Sundays . . . an so one,” he added, pulling a blanket over them both, planting a soft kiss over her lips. 

They lay still for a while, somewhere between sleep and ecstasy, till Bass broke the silence with unexpected question: “Why weren’t you sad when you found out about him?”

“Who, Nick?” Emily asked, wondering if Monroe had a certain type of answer that he wanted to hear. He nodded, his eyes suddenly cold and suspicious, even though his hand was caressing her shoulder ever so gently. “I guess I had already let go of him. We weren’t doing so good and I think that was the reason why he volunteered. He probably feared I would dump him.”

“Would you have?” Monroe asked, his voice low, but calm. 

“I thought about it . . . he just, never got there, if you know what I mean. Not in the same way you do,” she added, seeing a hint of a smile on The General’s lips.

“Sometimes, I thought about you when I was with him.” For Emily’s relief, Monroe smiled to that, looking perhaps even smugger than usually. 

\--

Bass stretched in his chair, feeling only glad the meeting was over. He had a republic to rule, it was true, but there was so much more interesting things to focus one, for example, the girl in his bathtub. They had taken a quick cat-nap after their latest bed party, which had been the second time for the same morning, not that he minded.

The girl had told she would leave, because she needed a bath. Bass hadn’t wanted her to, so he had offered the luxury of his bathtub to her and there she was, just at the other side of the wall, waiting for him, fresh and straight from the bath. 

A pleased smile on his face The General rose, not bothering to knock. It was his bedroom after all. Emily was still in the tub, wet hair flowing over her shoulders. “Haven’t had enough yet?” Bass asked, stopping to admire the view. The girl cracked one eye open, her lips curving into a smile. “The water hasn’t completely cooled off yet,” she stated, now opening both of her eyes. “My towel, please,” she added. 

Bass handed her a fluffy white towel, feeling pleasurable heat at the pit of his stomach while he watched her to step out of the tub. Her cheeks were pink from the hot water and her entire face was positively glowing. How he could have pushed away the thought that Emily looked just the same than after fucking him?   
The girl dried herself, squeezing most of the water out of her hair back to the tub. Bass watched her, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. It wasn’t wrong to want her, she had made her want quite obvious, after all. Otherwise she wouldn’t have even come for him; she was too proud and stubborn to do things just for his pleasure. 

“Don’t bother,” Monroe said, seeing how Emily reached for her clothes. He pulled her to his lap, greeting her lips with a soft, yet slightly demanding kiss. She allowed it, parting her lips just enough to let his tongue in. Bass explored her mouth, eagerly, curiously, but taking his time. It was good to let the girl know he could offer . . . something different, than they had already shared. 

Emily raised her hand up to his hair, breaking the kiss. “Seriously Bass, I need to go back home,” She didn’t bother to wait for his response, before she rose, starting to get dressed. 

“I don’t want you to go,” Monroe said, allowing his displeasure to show. Emily scoffed, rolling her eyes in a manner which could have been read as amused or frustrated one. Bass chose the frustrated one. 

“Do we really have to do this again? We’ll fuck once more and then I’ll be free to go?”

“No, I don’t want you to go, at all,” Monroe said, seeing from the girl’s face she had understood. Her expressions changed quickly, from distress to anger and even consideration, till her face went completely blank. “You know I can’t. I will come for you, when I can.” 

It might have been a mistake to let her leave. Bass thought about it later that night, his eyes nailed to the clock. By this time he could have been in bed, peacefully asleep, his arms wrapped around the girl’s slender figure. Damn, he should have prevented her from leaving!

With ironic lopsided smile on his face, Bass studied the glass he was holding. He should have known the girl would leave, they always did. He drained rest of the whiskey with one gulp, slamming the glass to the table with such force it shattered. While looking at those tiny see through shards, he realized it. Perhaps it was wrong, after all, to want the girl like this. . .


End file.
